


I Still Know

by LeraOmo (Lera_Myers)



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Blackmail, Desperation, Dubious Consent, F/F, Humiliation, Mass Effect Kink Meme, Omorashi, Oral Sex, Watersports, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 17:45:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5426087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lera_Myers/pseuds/LeraOmo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack's looking for revenge on the Cerberus cheerleader after losing an argument. Miranda's unfortunate enough to have a bad habit that makes this easy: she tends to put off visiting the bathroom. And now that Jack has some good blackmail material, what's it going to take for her to get rid of it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Still Know

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning!** In the second half of this fic, Jack blackmails Miranda into giving her oral sex. I've labeled it dub-con, but to make it explicitly clear, _this does not in any way resemble safe, consensual sex._
> 
> Written for [this prompt](http://masseffectkink.livejournal.com/9115.html?thread=43495579#t43495579) at the Mass Effect Kink Meme.

There were plenty of things about a person that could be genetically engineered. Their IQ, for example, or what they would look like; hell, it was possible to manufacture a person right down to how old they’d be when their hair turned gray. Yes, all of those were true, and they were just some of the reasons Jack couldn’t stand Miranda Lawson - as if the whole Cerberus thing hadn’t been enough.  
  
Ordinarily, they stayed out of each other’s way as much as possible. Oh, sure, the operative’s bed hadn’t exactly gotten short-sheeted a few times on its own, and Ms. Nought  _might_ have been the first one to know when someone had mysteriously filled Miranda’s shoes with whipped cream, but those weren’t the norm.  
  
Unfortunately for Miranda, neither was today. Last week the two of them had had quite the argument, the kind that degenerated into a lot of shouting and crackling biotics until Shepard came in and pulled them apart. It had been enough to leave Subject Zero absolutely fuming.  
  
And then! The fucking bastard had taken  _Lawson’s_  side, told Jack to go calm down, as if she were a spoilt toddler in need of a time-out. Oh, she would definitely be getting back at him for that, no doubt about it. But not today. Today she’d be focusing on the Cerberus operative. And not only that, she was going to use Miranda against herself.  
  
For all her self-identified superiority, Lawson had an undeniable set of bad habits. In moments of stress it wasn’t uncommon to find her chewing at her thumbnail or twirling a lock of hair around one finger, but that wasn’t nearly as interesting as the third thing Jack had noticed. She’d first observed it months ago during a meeting, watching the raven-haired woman fidget and tap her foot uncomfortably against the ground throughout an entire conversation, only to bolt for the bathroom as soon as they’d dismissed. And that hadn’t been an isolated case, either. Shepard and even his irritatingly perky yeoman had mentioned in passing that the cheerleader seemed to be in the habit of waiting until the absolute last second to piss.  
  
From there, Jack’s plan for revenge had been simple. It had been a little tricky to find a way to tamper with Miranda’s zippers without her noticing, especially given she had to put them  _on_  first, but Jack hadn’t survived as a convict without learning some entertaining tricks. All she’d had to do after that was sit back and wait. It took longer than she’d initially expected (leading her to wonder if even the other woman’s internal organs had been “improved” before birth), but soon enough the sound of Lawson’s footsteps hurrying in the direction of the toilets reached her ears. With a devilish grin, Jack rose from her seat, stretching her legs before going after the operative. She didn’t rush, but nor was she about to miss what was sure to be a very good show.  
  
The sound of muttered cursing reached her ears as she entered the bathroom, echoing in a way that made Jack sure they were the only two people inside. Quickly, she locked the door behind herself, and needed to move only a few steps to her right in order to watch her prank take hold.  
  
What a sight it was. Miranda Lawson, normally so dignified and haughty, was turned towards the wall with one hand gripping her crotch in a very unladylike fashion. The other fumbled at her stuck zipper, which might have been just the tiniest bit more effective had she not been squirming around like she was about to explode - which she probably was.  
  
Jack spoke first, barely managing to stifle a smile. “Having some trouble, cheerleader?”

“Ah!” In a split second, Miranda yanked her hand from her crotch, making a hilariously terrible attempt to pretend she had just been adjusting that ridiculous catsuit of hers. It did nothing to hide the desperation etched into her face, nor her frantic jiggling - by now almost a full-blown dance of the sort usually only performed by toddlers in this situation. Jack couldn’t hold back a deep chuckle.  
  
_Not so high and mighty now, are you, bitch?_  
  
“Jack,  _please_.” There was a sharp edge to the operative’s voice, but it lacked any of the authority that was normally there. “I can’t - “ Her jaw clenched as a wave of urgency crashed over her, thighs clamped together in an attempt to hold on just a little bit longer. Once it had passed, she gestured wordlessly to the zipper, jammed about a half-inch below her neck.  
  
“Hey, we’ve all been there.” The tattooed woman shrugged, unable to keep an amused grin off her face. “Need a hand?”  
  
“God, yes,” Miranda blurted, stepping closer to allow her coworker better access to the problem area. Shit, she had to be out of her mind with desperation. The Lawson they were all familiar with would go out of her way to avoid giving anyone the slightest bit of control over her, but especially Jack.  
  
Giving a half-hearted tug on the zip, she took a quick mental inventory of the options available. She could turn on the shower and let the combined visual and sound push Miranda over the edge, but that would hardly be very exciting. Or she could just give the operative’s lower stomach a good hard jab to help nature take its course. It probably wouldn’t take much extra pressure at all. But then Lawson shifted again, and a third possibility occurred to Jack - this one the most interesting.  
  
She wasn’t a large woman, but she knew how to work with what she had. And in one quick movement, she had the Cerberus worker spun around, biotics fizzling to force her back against the wall.  
  
“Jack! What the hell are you - ”  
  
That was all Miranda managed to get out before she found the younger woman’s hands shoved hard into her armpits, fingers wriggling in a merciless tickle. A wordless noise that bordered on a squeal escaped her, and one foot stamped down on the floor probably hard enough for anyone on deck four to feel.  
  
What happened next was predictable, but that didn’t make it any less enjoyable. The moment Jack heard that unmistakeable hissing sound, she refocused her biotics. Twin fields locked Miranda’s ankles apart, mainly to ensure the operative’s bladder voided completely, but also partly to provide a better show. Not just for her benefit, of course. The camera attached to her omni-tool, discreetly recording throughout all of this, was more in need of a different angle than she was.  
  
From the way the older woman’s thighs clenched, it was easy to see she was trying to strangle off the flow, a gesture that did nothing to lessen the harsh stream soaking down her legs. Within seconds it was forming a puddle on the floor. Jack swept her gaze up to Lawson’s face, the expression that was somewhere between shock and a grimace telling her everything she needed to know. Somehow, despite the repeated strain on her bladder, Miranda had never actually had it give out on her - at least not in front of someone else.  
  
As the small pool on the floor kept expanding, Jack edged away, ostensibly to keep her feet dry. Even if she hadn’t been taping, it was impossible not to stare. The sheer volume alone was insane, more than she had thought possible. Had she been holding it all fucking day? A tiny, shaky sigh answered her. Clearly any amount of humiliation involved couldn’t wipe out the relief.

Miranda didn’t move as the stream finally tapered off, giving Jack plenty of opportunity to take a nice shot of her standing in the middle of her own puddle. At last she stopped the video, wearing a positively shit-eating grin.  
  
“Nice show, princess. Think Shepard would like to see it?”  
  
“What?!” Miranda’s head snapped up like she’d been jerked out of a stupor, her eyes wide as she watched Jack composing a new message on her omni.  
  
“Aw, don’t worry. I can send it to everyone on board.” Jack’s fingers played over the keys expertly. “That way no one has to miss out.”  
  
“You’re bluffing,” the XO shot back.  
  
“I am?” With a flick of the wrist, the incriminating video began to play inches from its starring role’s face. Jack only let her watch a few seconds, enough to get a clear idea, before shutting it off and shrugging. “Guess you won’t mind if I go ahead and send it, then. Think I can find the address for that pretentious asshole you report to? I’m sure he’d - “  
  
“Absolutely not!” The answer was accompanied by a sharp tap, almost a slap, on the convict’s forearm to stop her. “You’ve had your fun. Just delete that vid. I don’t want to hear any more about it.”  
  
“Nah, I don’t think so,” Jack sneered. “You’re gonna have to make a stronger argument than that, Cheerleader Pissy-Pants.”  
  
The name made Miranda all but cringe, squirming as though she’d just remembered exactly how soaked her clothes were. It was very damning evidence all on its own - the huge wet patch around her ass, the rivers down her thighs, not to mention the stain at the apex of her legs, there was only one clear explanation for all of it. Each of them knew it, and knew the other knew it.  
  
“Fine,” the executive officer snapped, her face now several shades redder than it had been a moment ago. “Name your price. But after that, I expect every trace of that file to be gone - along with any others you might have made. Is that clear?”  
  
Jack didn’t answer right away. She was too busy considering what to demand. It had to be a suitable trade-off, one that made sure Miranda learned her lesson about what happened when you argued with Subject Zero. Something more intense than an awkward walk back to her office and a little extra laundry. What would be a fitting lesson?  
  
“Did you hear me?” There was a distinct note of impatience in her voice now, either from the worry of what her answer would be or the discomfort of remaining in her soiled clothes. “I said, is it clear?”  
  
“You could eat me.”  
  
“ _What?_ ”  
  
One hand pulled down her own fly before she undid the button at her waistband. “You asked for my price, princess. This is it.” She paused, leaving her pants open, and pretended to think about it. “But hey, if that’s too much, I don’t mind. Let me just get that file again and…”  
  
“Ugh!” Miranda rubbed a hand over her face. “We can discuss it once I’ve cleaned up a bit.” She was about to go on, but the convict cut her off.  
  
“Really? You sure you want to leave me alone with that?” Jack grinned lazily, leaning back against the wall. “You walk out that door, you might find it in ten different inboxes by the time you’re back. Now or never.”  
  
For all the distaste in Lawson’s face, her eyes were fixed on the panties clearly visible underneath Jack’s open fly. A deep breath and a sigh were her answer.  
  
“All right.”

To Miranda’s credit, she didn’t try and weasel out of the deal. Without further hesitation, she moved to her knees, tugging the tattooed woman’s pants down and off her legs before doing the same with her panties. Jack cooperated readily, kicking them well away from the puddle on the floor. She inhaled deeply, the rush of air against her now-exposed pussy serving to stimulate things a bit.  
  
It also served to make her aware of the slight pressure in her own lower stomach. She’d been too busy keeping an eye on the Cerberus worker to take a bathroom break herself, but she set that need aside for now. Unlike some people, she was perfectly capable of waiting.  
  
The sudden brush of fingers against her cropped pubic hair made her realize how slick she already was. Miranda’s little show had done more for her than she’d realized. The operant ran her digits down Jack’s slit, raising her eyebrows as she noticed the wetness gathered there.  
  
“Enjoying yourself, I see,” she muttered, lips curled into a sneer. Before she had the chance to go on, one of the convict’s hands shot out, grabbing a fistful of hair and giving it a sharp yank.  
  
“Let’s make this clear,  _bitch._ ” Her voice vibrated with a growl. “Put that mouth to good use or I’ll make sure every member of your asshat organization sees that vid.  _Now._ ”  
  
Apparently deciding that Jack meant what she said, Miranda got to work. The first flick of her tongue was experimental, just to get a taste of the arousal there. As if she wasn’t sure what to do, she began nibbling along the younger woman’s slit painfully slowly.  
  
Admittedly, it wasn’t bad for the first few moments. A bit of a tease, maybe, but Jack had to bite her lip to keep quiet when she felt wetness begin to trickle down one thigh. Miranda turned her head slightly, lapping it up without hesitation. It made the convict’s breath hitch and her eyes close to focus on the feeling. Surely she’d get down to business now…  
  
But the next sensation she felt was that of fingers spreading her open and…pausing there. With a grumble, Jack opened her eyes again, only to find Miranda kneeling perfectly still in front of her. She gave another rough yank to the handful of black hair she still held, drawing a yelp from Lawson’s throat that she couldn’t deny she enjoyed hearing.  
  
“The fuck are you doing?” she snapped, not waiting for an answer before she went on. “Did I tell you to go pussyfooting around?”  
  
“No,” Miranda managed to gasp, gritting her teeth against the pinpricks of pain on her scalp.  
  
“Last warning, cheerleader.” With her free hand, she spread herself, allowing her stiff clitoris to jut out more clearly. “You know how a cunt works, don’t you?”  
  
“I - “  
  
“Last warning,” she repeated. “ _Suck._ ”  
  
Finally,  _finally,_  Miranda did as she was told properly, her lips closing over the hard head of Jack’s clit. A jolt of pleasure coursed through the younger woman, and she buried her hand in dark tresses again, this time just slightly more gentle. There was still a definite roughness to her movements as she petted Lawson’s head, but it was clearly encouragement, trying to get her to go harder.  
  
Perhaps remembering what she liked herself, the operative moved slightly lower, lapping up wet heat directly from the source. And perhaps Jack was letting herself go, because she was startled with how firmly her hips bucked at the feeling. Not to be outdone, she used both hands to grip the underside of Miranda’s chin and tilt her head up, reminding her of what the best feature here was.  
  
She could feel the slight inhale and parting of lips below her, preparing whatever bitchy remark the Cerberus worker was about to spout off this time, but she didn’t get a chance. Jack shoved her pelvis forward, jerking her clit between the other woman’s lips, as much as to keep her quiet as to gain the pleasure.  
  
“No - “ Shit, her voice was raspy. She had to swallow and wet her lips before she could start again. “No talking, slut. Not unless you want to be -  _ah_ …” A slight scrape of teeth along her clit and her hips thrust again in time with the word. “…Cleaning up the mess you left on this damn floor. With your tongue.” She could feel Miranda cringe below her and redouble her efforts.

Of course, it wasn’t getting any easier for Ms. Nought to stay quiet, either. Now that she was reasonably satisfied it wouldn’t mean the cessation of her pleasure, she allowed one hand to leave Miranda’s jaw, bringing it up to her own mouth to stifle the little gasps and groans that slipped free. If she hadn’t hated the other woman so much, she would have said she was a damn quick learner, at least when it came to learning how to eat pussy. She had a firm hold on Jack’s stiff bud now, alternating between sucking and lashing it with her tongue in a series of hard, fast little taps.  
  
Shit, she needed more. The hand that had been covering her mouth just a second ago was now playing across one tit, rubbing the hard point of her nipple in circles before switching to the other. Each of these movements was borderline painful, making straps dig into her skin at uncomfortably sharp angles, but who the hell cared? The slight nip of pain, even during sex, was enough to remind her that she was alive.  
  
She barely stifled a yelp when she felt a prodding at her entrance, opening her eyes (when had she closed them?) to realize Miranda was doing just that. Another none-too-gentle caress of the scalp convinced her it was a good idea, Jack’s wetness allowing her to push two fingers inside easily. The combination of sensations felt incredible, she didn’t want it to end.  
  
When teeth nibbled at her clit again, she had to shut her eyes and concentrate to keep from releasing right then. All she got was another minute, maybe two, of rubbing and sucking and thrusting before Miranda’s digits hooked against her front wall, finding the rough spot inside. With that pressure and another good hard suck on her bud she felt white explode behind her eyes, a guttural sound between a grunt and a moan leaving her as she climaxed. Miranda’s free hand gripped her ass, allowing her to keep working through the orgasm to ensure it was a thoroughly satisfying one.  
  
As the spots dancing in front of her eyes began to clear, Jack could only pant for breath, consciously locking her knees to keep them from buckling. It wouldn’t do to let herself fall over, no matter how much that orgasm had wiped her out. But once she met Miranda’s eyes, there was no choice but to let herself tip back just slightly to lean on the nearby wall for support. It had been enough to see one of Cerberus’s top workers in a bodysuit she’d pissed, but seeing her with cum on her face -  _Jack’s_  cum - nearly made her climax again right there.  
  
“Taken care of?” Contrary to how it had been just minutes before, Miranda’s voice wasn’t demanding in the slightest. If anything, it was almost meek.  
  
Jack drew in a breath, about to say yes, the debt was paid in full, but she didn’t. The sudden coolness around her pussy was making her remember another need that still had to be satisfied.  
  
Her grip on Lawson’s hair had slackened and fallen away completely, and now she reestablished it, pulling her forward again. “Again,” she growled, her voice wavering just the slightest bit. The operant’s face fell, the wheels in her head turning momentarily, before she seemed to give up and submit herself to going back to work.  
  
Even with the heightened sensitivity brought on by aftershocks, it took a few seconds for Jack to relax her muscles. A jet of piss caught Miranda full in the face as she was leaning in, and no amount of mental discipline could keep her from recoiling.  
  
“ _Ugh!!_ ”  
  
Holding her there would have been too difficult now that Jack was practically doubled over laughing. Most of her pee was streaming freely onto the floor now, but she could see the bit that hadn’t beginning to soak into the collar of that white catsuit. The look of horror and revulsion on Miranda’s face was quite possibly among the best rewards she'd ever gotten.

“Enjoy that, bitch?” Her bladder empty, she shimmied her hips to shake off the last few drops before finding her discarded pants and underwear. Thankfully, they were still dry.  
  
Watching the younger woman slide back into her panties, Miranda found her tongue. “What the hell is wrong with you, Jack?”  
  
“Aw, hey.” Jack held up her hands, the picture of mock innocence. “No hard feelings, right? Here, let me take care of that clip.” Her omni activated with a flick of her wrist, allowing Miranda to watch as she dragged the file to the trash and deleted it.  
  
The operative looked at a loss for words, watching Jack do up the zip and button on her pants.  
  
“Hey, by the way, might want to clean up before you deal with the crew.” Jack smirked. “I hear scissors might help you get that thing open.” And, leaving their XO kneeling on the floor, she strode across to unlock the door. She hadn’t made it more than two steps outside when she was stopped again, this time by a flash of red hair and a polite smile.  
  
“Jack?”  
  
Pulling a face, she sidestepped Chambers almost on reflex. “Fuck you want, Yeoman?”  
  
“Is everything all right? I thought I heard a disagreement going on, so I was just checking…”  
  
“Y - “ She stopped, her lips curling into a wicked smile. “Nah, actually. Might want to see what the cheerleader’s having trouble with, in there.” With that, she shrugged and sauntered off. The sound of the door opening reached her ears a moment before the twin gasps did.  
  
Whatever her revenge on Shepard was, it was going to be hard to top  _that_  performance. But she wouldn’t start plotting that yet. First, she planned to review a few files on her omni - the ones she'd made after Miranda demanded their deletion.


End file.
